


He Has Become Death

by Cornerofmadness



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, War, description of burn victims
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29305095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/pseuds/Cornerofmadness
Summary: Roy’s mastery of fire threatens to turn him into a monster. He needs someone to save him.
Relationships: Maes Hughes/Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2021





	He Has Become Death

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cozy_coffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cozy_coffee/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** Not mine, Arakawa owns it
> 
> **Notes:** Written for cozy_coffe for the prompt any, any, the power to control fire and for the hurt comfort bingo prompt of bodyguards.

The heat of the desert made the landscape shimmer in the dying sun. What genius had decided that the Amestrian army needed to wear heavy wool uniforms? Roy had stripped down to his shirttails -and of course the trousers and boots - but it hadn’t helped much. Everything about the Ishvalans’ land felt oppressive, ironically since it was the army doing the oppressing. It wasn’t what Roy had signed up for. He hadn’t ever imagined it would be like this. He remembered bitterly being in his master’s home, learning his craft even if Master Hawkeye had hidden the thing Roy had wanted most to learn, talking about how he would save everyone with his alchemy.

He was the savior of nothing. He was a destroyer. He had become death, a god delivering fiery doom with a snap of his finger. Oh, he supposed the Ishvalans wouldn’t call him a god – they had no sense of humor at all about their religion - a demon maybe. They constantly confused his alchemy with magic. They knew one thing: they needed to kill him.

Roy hadn’t needed the official order to keep all parts of his silver pocket watch hidden away. His men knew him and there was no need to call attention to him otherwise. He had two bodyguards: Maes Hughes -self-appointed – and Riza Hawkeye – officially assigned. He hated himself for dragging Riza into this nightmare. She had followed his ideal and now they were both in hell.

Glancing around the camp site, he spotted her and her rifle up on a rigid. She lay against a rocky outcropping surveying the landscape, keeping watching with the scorpions and tarantulas. Roy wanted to save her from this place but he couldn’t bring himself to make this quick. His commanders wanted him to snap his fingers and call up the secrets of flame alchemy and burn everything to the ground. He just couldn’t burn innocent civilians, women and children, the elderly, none of whom had done him any harm. He’d had Ishvalan friends in the Academy. How had they gone from allies to enemies? Maes, on the other hand, was elsewhere. Had been for a few weeks. Someone higher up realized Maes made Roy happy and had removed him. Roy needed to remember he was a tool, not a man and taking away his best friend helped with that. 

The shifting winds brought smoke to his nostrils as the sun began slipping below the horizon. It originated in the small village Roy had been forced to burn. He had done what he could to mitigate the damage. He’d sent up a wall of flame blinding those who enjoyed the killing, giving the Ishvalans a path out. Not all of them took it. They wanted to kill Amestrians just as much as the Amestrian leaders wanted him to kill Ishvalans. Master Hawkeye, Riza’s half mad father, had been right to hide the secret of flame alchemy. He should have hidden it better.

People had died in his fire. The stink of sulfur from their hair danced in the wind. Layered under it was the smell of roasted pig , the coppery liver smell of organs cooking and the sweet musky scent of boiling cerebral spinal fluid. Their heads would have exploded from the pressure. Things he hadn’t known before the war. Things he couldn’t escape, playing like a hellscape when he closed his eyes. Roy didn’t even need to smell it to know people had died in his fire. He could feel the volatile fats congealing on his lips. Those were the times when he considered dying.

Other State Alchemists had. Roy recorded that in a secret little book. He had two. One where he recorded all the horrors of the flames. The other he wrote down the alchemists who died, those who went mad and those who enjoyed this wanton destruction. Those were the ones who frightened Roy the most: Kimbly, Silver, Basque Gran. He avoided them as much as he could which wasn’t nearly as much as he wanted.

“Roy.” 

Hearing Maes’s voice, he whipped around. Maes had a bandage on his hand but otherwise he didn’t look worse the wear for wherever they had shipped him off to. Roy walked over, restrained, professional. He didn’t want anyone thinking they were more than friends. He was even more protective of his relationship with Riza. He noticed she had come down off the cliff and watched them from one of the camp fires.

“Hughes, you back now?”

“For a while. I have a story to tell you.” Maes beamed. 

Oh, he might but that would be secondary. Maes knew Roy needed care, needed someone to tell him he was something more than a monster. As they entered his tent - he had one to himself as no one really wanted to be with Alchemists. The rank-and-file soldiers _knew_ the alchemists were something other, something dangerous – Roy knew that’s where this night would start: Maes taking care of him. The story would come after.

The feel of Maes against him, in him, was what Roy needed. The whiskey bitter taste of Maes’s kisses made things better, the delicious burn of his stubble against Roy’s sensitized skin banished the bad if only for a little. In this hell, Roy could hope for nothing more.


End file.
